


Building a Life

by mookuh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-18 13:57:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mookuh/pseuds/mookuh
Summary: Harry and Hermione decide to start living after surviving the war. Together, far away from others. Whilest building their new life and home they find friends and partners in unexpected people.Not epilogue compliant.





	1. A Beginning

For the first time in her life Hermione Granger had no purpose. Nothing to drive her actions. The war was over, the dead were buried, Hogwarts was rebuilt. She felt empty. Alone. She felt nothing. She did not know whether she still had the capability to feel anything. Anything, but lost.

„Mione. I can’t.“ said Harry and with a sigh he sunk down into the grass next to her. „Hm?“ she did not turn her gaze away from the moon mirrored in the dark depths of the Great Lake. „I can’t go back there. I can’t become an auror. I can’t marry Ginny. I can’t remain at Hogwarts. Can’t repeat our final year. Can’t love Ginny as she wants me to. Can’t live up to expectations any longer. Can’t stay with the Weasleys. Laugh, continue as if nothing has happened. I can’t do it, Mione. I can’t!“. He took a deep breath as she turned around to face him. Harry looked the way she felt: empty, ragged, desperate. „I know, Harry“ she said and flopped down next to him. „I know, I know… I – yeah. Same.“

She turned to her side and took his hand between her smaller ones. His hands had even more scars now. He threw himself into rebuilding Hogwarts and used his body more than his magic. Most of them did. Magic was war. Magic hurt all of them. It healed them, too, but the damage was greater. It killed their friends, their families, their pets, their dreams, their innocence. She placed a kiss onto his fingers and closed her eyes. Harry was her family. Her only family. Her parents would never recover their memories of her. The Weasleys loved both of them. But the death of Fred made it obvious that they were not family. What a sorry pair they were making, she thought. Barely of age, not willing to finish their education, orphans, veterans of a brutal war, decorated heroes, vaults full of money, lonely. Depressed.

„I want to find peace, Harry. I want to be able to move on. Not question everything someone says. Not to wake up screaming. I want just one night without nightmares. One! I can’t do it at Hogwarts. Or at Grimmauld Place. Or the Weasleys. Or within a magical community. I need to get away, Harry.“ She looked him straight in the eyes, knowing he would see her desperation. Her hurt. Knowing, he felt the same. He reached out and plucked a curly strand out of her face, gently putting it behind her ear and said „I might have a place where we can start. We, Mione. I don’t want to – I can’t do this without you. When Andromeda and I formalized the paperwork with Teddy I requested a list of all the things I’ve inherited. Money, items, properties, land. I have land, Mione. A lot of it.“ He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Nervous. Hopeful. „

I want to start fresh. From zero. Literally. Build a cabin, a house, a garden. A life. I want to get to know myself. Without all of… this.“ He closed his eyes and she squeezed his hand. „Together, Harry. Yes.“, she said and tears started falling out of the corner of her eyes onto the grass. Tears of hope, tears for a future. A future she never thought she’d live to see.


	2. The Disappearance

It was surprisingly easy to gather all they wanted to take with them. Because it was not much. Too many memories were interwoven with their belongings. Too much hurt. Too many tears had been shed on, too many deaths connected to them. And most of what they would need was already in her beaded bag.

Hermione wrote lists of things they would need. Tools, spells, books, materials, and food. No one questioned why The Saviour made his way to the kitchen late at night. Not a single house-elf spoke a word of the items they stuffed into his bag without questioning him when he asked them for help. They saw his despair and they knew that he had done enough for their world to be given freely what he needed.

They spent a lot of time with the pensive in the Headmistress’ office. Recording and bottling memories for the trials of people they couldn’t stand to go to. Not because of hate. Because of pain. They couldn’t stand the prospect of the revenge they thought would be lain on people who didn’t deserve it. They left all of it neatly organized and labelled to the order on the evening of their disappearance.

No one expected that The Saviour and Miss Granger would disappear. For some it came as no surprise, though. In their cells in the Ministry some wanted to do the same. Admired that they had the courage to leave glory and admiring followers behind. Applauded them for every day the wizarding world was unable to find them. Not knowing about and not expecting the blue strands of hope they had left bottled up.

“Ready?” they asked at the same time when they met on the grounds to apparate. A nod of heads and a linking of arms later they disappeared from the magical world.

Doncaster railway station was not a sight to behold in the gloomy autumn rain. But it was sufficiently big enough that two people hiding in plain sight would not stand out. Nor would it have been easy to see through their glamour. The war and the constantly present press afterwards had forced them to finetune their glamour to a point. Without a spell cast directly at them the watcher would think them a little eccentric backpackers.

The Frenchgate Shopping Centre right next to the red brick Station provided everything muggle they still had left on their lists. Clothing, cell phones, power banks, solar charging stations, power tools, food, and much more. By the end of their shopping trip they were intimately acquainted with the tiny and not recently cleaned bathrooms to which they made their way after each store to stuff the purchases into the beaded bag.

The train ride from Doncaster to Darlington was spent in nervous anticipation. At least one of them flinched whenever someone opened the door to their compartment. And a sigh of relief was expelled after each stop of the train that left them undiscovered. They made it to their connecting train to Carlisle only by running and fell into their seats opposite an elderly couple who eyed them curiously.

“Are you just starting your travels or are you on your way home, dearies?”, asked the woman. Hermione and Harry look at her, then at each other, and back to her. “Starting. This is the beginning.” Hermione answered and tried to smile. The man looked at them appraisingly and asked “and where are you off to? We’ve done quite a lot of hiking in our days. Right, Bea?” the woman smiled at him and patted his knee “that we have, my love. All over the country. Nowadays we prefer the even ground to the mountains. The joints aren’t what they once were, you know?”.

Hermione felt a timid but real smile take over her face. “We’re going to take it easy at first. A walk along the Hadrian’s Wall from Carlisle - and wherever our feet take us after that.” she said and stripped off her backpack. From there on a conversation about history ensued. At some point Harry was lulled to sleep by the calm voices around him. Blissful, not-interrupted sleep.

When the announcement that the train was approaching Carlisle was made, Hermione shook him gently to rouse him from his sleep and bidding goodbye to their travel companions they made their way to the bus station that would take them to Keswick. No one was to be trusted with their destination. Not even elderly people she would adopt as grandparents in a second.


End file.
